


the second brain

by mishmish



Category: X-Men (Movies), X-Men: Days of Future Past (2014) - Fandom, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Charles You Slut, Charles is Newt Geiszler, Erik is Hannibal Chau, Erik is a Dick, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Pacific Rim AU, alternating pov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-06
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-14 17:12:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3418865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishmish/pseuds/mishmish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charles needs Kaiju parts to maybe save the world. Erik doesn't let those go without a price. </p><p>Pacific Rim AU, exactly as ridiculous as it sounds.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure ridiculous silliness and I apologize for nothing (except any mistakes - this is unbetaed). 
> 
> If you haven't seen Pacific Rim, this probably won't make much sense, but I'll include a short background summary in the chapter endnotes to hopefully clear up some points. If you haven't seen the movie, jump there (Pacific Rim spoilers, obviously). Endnotes will also include an explanation of warnings.

_ Pentecost didn’t say he was hot. _

_Fuck._

_FUCK._

_Play it cool, Charles._

But playing it cool was hard when he was standing smack in the middle of a veritable wealth of Kaiju parts. Playing it cool was very hard when terrifying-yet-hot Hannibal Chau had seen him losing his shit over those Kaiju parts. It was damn near impossible to play it cool now that terrifying-yet-hot Hannibal Chau was looking at him, expecting an explanation.

_All he said was not to trust him._

Chau was a tough read, since his weird steampunk sunglasses obscured his eyes. The minute work of his jaw - which was sharp enough to cut a Kaiju hide - suggested his patience was thin.

_Play it COOL, Charles._

Charles cleared his throat and shook his head as if to clear his mind. “Right. Um. Stacker Pentecost sent me to, uh… okay, so -- “ He could see Chau’s eyebrow lift above his frames. Charles was sure the man was appraising him. But that was okay - he didn’t have to be slick, he just had to be a scientist. A lot was riding on him getting what he needed from Chau. The prospect of losing out on what might be humanity’s last shot was enough to embolden Charles to spit it out.

“I need a Kaiju brain.”

Charles suspected that Chau was blinking at him, though of course he couldn’t be sure. “You need a Kaiju brain.”

“Yes, a Kaiju brain.” Charles swallowed.

“Do you understand how thick the skull plates are in one of those things? By the time my people can get to it - “

“Yes, yes, I know, but what about the second brain? It can be accessed by cutting through the ligaments of the innominates. You must have gotten one of those.”

Chau cocked his head. “You’re a smart one, are you? Most people don’t have that kind of knowledge of Kaiju anatomy.”

“Well, I am the last of the Jaeger program scientists. That means I’m the best of them,” Charles replied, hoping he sounded more matter-of-fact than cocky. He figured it would be best not to point out that the secondary brain was Kaiju Anatomy 101 material, anyway.

Chau’s lip curled. It looked more like amusement than distaste, though Charles couldn’t be sure.

“Well, unfortunately, we don’t just keep those lying around. Not when they turn a profit. But if you wanted to stake a claim on the secondary brain from the next Kaiju that shows up, well, I’m willing to talk.”

“What are your terms?”

“What can you offer?”

“Anything.”

Chau’s lips pulled back into a slow grin again, baring his teeth. “Anything,” he murmured. “Really. Well. I’m not a philanthropist. Don’t over-promise if you can’t beat market price.”

“I - “ Charles took a deep breath. “The Jaeger program is underfunded and we’ll pay what we can but I’m afraid it’ll be below market price, as it were. But please. We need this. Desperately. It’s our last hope.”

“What’s your last hope?” For all that his voice sounded patient, his jaw was working again. “Kaiju parts are very profitable, Mr. - ?”

“Xavier. Charles Xavier. I -- “

“Mr. Xavier. Well, I am a businessman, and I’m not accustomed to giving valuable parts away to anyone who asks. You’ll either have to do better explaining your case or offer a damn good price.”

“It - it’s classified. I can’t tell you. Stacker Pentecost -- “

“ -- sent you, yes, I got that.” Charles flushed. He felt irritation rising like bile in his throat.

“We need this. We’re close to a breakthrough. We don’t have money to give. I’m sorry, but we don’t. It’s all been siphoned off to build walls, which the Kaiju can walk right the hell through, by politicians who know nothing about the science behind the Kaiju attacks. If money is what you’re after, I’m sure some CEO in Tokyo can fly to the next Kaiju kill site to buy organs off you for exponentially more than I’ll see in my lifetime. But all the money you can get selling Kaiju parts won’t matter if you’re too dead to spend it. Or if everyone else is too dead to sell you anything. And that’s Dr. Xavier, thanks.”

Chau was looking at him from behind those damn sunglasses. His broad grin was gone. A smirk had taken its place. That could mean nothing good. Charles had pushed his luck, mouthed off too much --

“I’m open to a barter,” Chau said lightly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Background: Charles is a scientist who researches Kaiju (aliens from another dimension that are sent to wreak havoc on Earth) in support of the now-cash-strapped Jaeger program (Jaegers = giant Kaiju-fighting robots, piloted by two people who "drift," i.e. mind-meld, to fight in sync). Charles has figured out how to apply drift technology to a still-active brain from a dead Kaiju, to great success. He thinks that if he has the chance to do it again, he'll have a real breakthrough in his understanding of the Kaiju, but he doesn't have a live brain on hand anymore. The director of the Jaeger program, Stacker Pentecost, refers him to Hannibal Chau, the anonymous black market Kaiju organ dealer who is secretly contracted with the Jaeger program. 
> 
> Warnings: Tagging for mild dubcon out of an abundance of caution because even though both parties are enthusiastically consenting, the circumstances might make it seem coercive (though I promise they opportunistically use the situation as an excuse to do what they'd be happily doing anyway).


	2. Part I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charles and Erik carry out the terms of their deal.

Chau’s private rooms were as ostentatious as he was, to put it mildly. Charles perched on the enormous bed, swinging his legs, wondering how he got to the point where he was literally prostituting himself for Kaiju parts.

To think, when he was a kid he thought his biggest problem as a scientist would be writing grant proposals.

Not that sleeping with a handsome man was a problem. It had been Charles’ idea, after all. He’d stricken Chau speechless when he suggested it. For one mortifying moment, Charles was sure he’d misunderstood what Chau meant by “barter.” In fact he was still sure of that, but Chau had been amenable, and Charles wasn’t about to back down from a chance at breaking his years-long dry spell with a very sexy prospect.

Charles wondered if Chau liked to top or bottom. Or if he was a biter. He’d be finding out soon enough, which made his belly flip-flop with excitement. And then he’d have the promise of a Kaiju brain, and he’d get another chance to drift with a Kaiju - which was so fucking awesome, best job ever - and maybe help save the world. For the first time in a while, he felt like everything was going to be okay.

He tugged his cardigan over his head without bothering to unbutton it. He folded it, mostly to keep from fidgeting, and set it down on the bed next to him. He wasn’t sure how dressed, or not, Chau would want him, so rather than proceed with disrobing, he recommenced swinging his legs. Uncertainty churned in his mind.

\---

Erik regarded himself in the mirror as he belted his robe. It wasn’t often that anyone saw Erik without his sunglasses, but he would insist on a clear view of Charles if he was to have him for a conquest. That is, if he was even really a conquest, per se. This was all his idea, anyway. Erik thought he could use the second brain situation as leverage to sweeten his deal with Pentecost even more, even though he already got the better end, because why not if he could? But a night with Charles instead was a welcome, if unexpected, proposition.

Erik eyed his scar in the mirror. The scar, he noted with mild surprise, imparted the same sinister mystery to his face that the sunglasses were there for. He hadn't really noticed that before. Hannibal Chau had begun to gradually seep into his very skin so that he could no longer delineate where Chau ended and Erik began. He dropped his head and rubbed at his unblemished brow with the heel of his hand, huffing a little.

If the scar intimidated Charles, fine. So much the better, even.

\---

Chau walked out of his dressing room - of course he had a separate dressing room - in nothing but a robe of the same red velvet as the jacket he’d worn earlier. Charles thought better of asking whether he’d built an entire wardrobe by pulling a Scarlett O’Hara, because he wasn’t sure Chau would get the reference, but he was sure Chau wouldn’t be amused if he did. In fairness, he was much less frightening-looking without the sunglasses. He was classically handsome, with a nice-featured face and a big, jagged scar over one eye. The scar looked like it came from a nasty injury, but it was still kind of sexy. Charles wanted to lick it.

“You’re overdressed,” Chau commented. Charles looked down and started to work on his shirt buttons, deliberately avoiding Chau’s gaze. “Shy?”

“A little,” Charles mumbled. “I don’t do this often.”

“Often?” Charles could hear him advancing with notes of laughter in his voice. “Have you done this before?” Charles looked up.

“No - I don’t mean do this, like, for things - I mean - I don’t do… this… it’s been a while,” he finished, daring a glance. Chau was standing over him, smiling, amused by the answer. Charles was sure he was comically red. “Well, um.”

“Need a hand?” Chau perched on the bed beside him, reaching for his fly and undoing the button before Charles could react.

“I… um…” Chau had unbuttoned his pants. He was unzipping them. He was reaching inside them. Only the thin fabric of Charles’ boxers separated flesh from flesh. He held still, except for the slow chew on his bottom lip. Chau’s fingertips teased at the slit of his boxers.

“Take your shirt off,” Chau instructed. Charles’ shaking hands fluttered back to his buttons. He could feel Chau’s breath on his ear, hot and tickling. “Safeword’s ‘deoxyribonucleic acid.’”

Charles froze. A safeword?! Exactly what was he getting himself into? But then he felt more than he heard Chau’s throaty chuckle. “Teasing, Charlie. Only teasing. Unless you think you need a safeword, then by all means, use it.” Chau’s lips brushed his earlobe. “But we won’t be doing more than, oh, maybe some light bondage.”

Charles’ cock twitched against Chau’s grasping fingers and he made an embarrassing noise.

“Oh,” Chau said after a beat. “In that case, do remember it. Just in case.”

\---

As Erik palmed Charles’ stiffening cock through his boxers, his other hand running a long line down his back, Charles was getting more flustered by the moment. At this rate, Erik could wreck him without breaking a sweat. It was almost unfair to bed him in this state. Almost.

Erik was unaccustomed to lovers he had no reason to mistrust. But there was a time, long before he called himself Chau, when Charles might not have been so out of place in Erik’s bed. Part of him wanted to give Charles a gentle word to put him at ease. He wasn’t a monster about to pounce on its prey, after all.

But Erik didn’t put years into cultivating fear and respect for his Hannibal Chau persona to let it all fall away for a pair of blue eyes. Not even when they came with tempting lips and floppy touchable hair. This was a business transaction and he would conduct himself accordingly: as the party with the upper hand.

He kissed Charles’ jaw and slid his fingertips under the elastic waistband of his boxers.

\---

Chau’s lips were roving over his jaw and his throat and behind his ear, breath warming his face. Charles felt unsteady, like a tap on his chest would knock him flat on his back. He could feel Chau’s lips curling against his skin, sliding upwards towards his ear. “You like that?” The whisper tickled. Charles tilted his head backward, exposing more throat. He made a high, almost whiny sound when Chau’s arm wrapped around his shoulders, guiding him down to lie flat on his back.

Chau kept an arm around him while stroking his cock and kissing his face and neck. Once or twice a kiss landed square on his mouth. Charles was feeling drunk on it, but just as he started to buck his hips into the grip, Chau withdrew his hand and settled it on Charles’ belly. “Clothes off now.”

Charles snapped back to attention - had he gotten that last button on his shirt? - and he had the outlandish thought that Chau might punish him if he hadn’t. But he had in fact gotten that last button, and Chau’s face was all amused indulgence. Not scary at all, then. Charles could do this.

He sat up just enough to tug his sleeves off of his arms, tossing his shirt to the floor and kicking off his pants at the same time. Chau considerately kept a supporting hand on his lower back. Charles shimmied out of his boxers and lay back and tried not to make too much of the appraising glance at his forearms.

\---

Naked, Charles looked exactly as pasty and freckled as one might expect a K-science officer to look. He was just far more colorful on certain bits, with arms full of Kaiju tattoos. He was slim, but all softened edges. Erik bent down and nibbled at Charles’ stomach, dipping his tongue into his navel. Erik liked how his stomach shrank back in surprise before relaxing into the feeling. He loved the softness of Charles’ flesh under his lips, but there were better uses of his tongue and their time.

He pulled back. Charles’ lips were bitten and glistening. His skin was flushed, probably with embarrassment as much as arousal. His hair was still fashionably tousled, but Erik would muss it up soon enough. “Get on your stomach.”

Charles blinked at him a few times, lips parted, before he processed what Erik said and hastened to turn over. He settled with his hands folded under his cheek. Erik divested himself of his robe and dumped it on the floor without ceremony.

He settled on his stomach between Charles’ legs and placed one hand on each thigh, parting them further. He ran his lips over the flesh of Charles’ ass, relishing its give as he pressed into it with his tongue. He could feel the tension in Charles’ thighs under his hands. He used his thumbs to part the cheeks and took a second to admire the view. Anticipation warmed his core as he imagined the things he’d do before they were through.

Charles muffled a cry with his wrist when Erik started to lick his hole with wide, flat, firm passes of his tongue. Erik wondered whether anyone had ever done this to Charles before, or if he was the first to have the privilege. He stiffened his tongue and traced it down to Charles’ balls and back a few times, pressing and teasing by turns. He pulled back for a breath, and to admire one more time the way Charles’ ass looked in his hands. Charles shivered when Erik exhaled over his wet skin. Buoyed by a fresh surge of lust, Erik fixed his lips on Charles’ hole, kissing and sucking at it like he was trying to leave a mark. When Charles gasped, following it with a weak “ah,” Erik knew he had him.

He doubled down, licking with all the relish he had in him. Charles’ thighs started to shake, inching apart without Erik’s urging. He squirmed against the mattress, pushing back against Erik’s tongue.

It was a pleasure to take in Charles' reactions. His hole clenching against Erik's mouth, the bonelessness and the tremor in his legs, the shameless moans, the hitching of his breaths. It was wonderful knowing that it was Erik’s tongue driving him to it.

\---

Charles had never had anyone do this to him before.

And what a fucking pity that was, because God, if he’d just _known_ …

He could feel the effects of Chau’s tongue all the way through to his belly. He was grinding his cock into the mattress and his ass back onto Chau’s face. He wanted more, so much more, because it felt like magic ---

And then Chau’s mouth was nibbling at the juncture of his thigh, and though it did feel rather nice, his hole missed the tongue. He wriggled his hips and groaned in protest, half unconscious of what he was doing. Chau settled a hand on the small of his back with a chuckle. “Steady.” His voice was a low rumble, almost a growl. That sound would haunt some of Charles’ alone moments after this was all done, for sure. Chau planted a hand on either of Charles’ hips and flipped him onto his back.

\---

Erik sat back on his heels and regarded Charles, splayed out in front of him, all shame gone, cock jutting straight out. His flush gave an attractive natural rose to his cheeks and a garish pink to the uncolored spaces on his tattoos. A Kaiju on Charles’ left shoulder was flexing its jaws with each heaving breath he took.

Erik crawled over Charles’ prone body, planting kisses up his midline until he was at his chin, then pulling back. Charles’ eyes were hazy with arousal. His tongue traced over his lower lip. Erik grinned down at him. If they’d met under different circumstances, Erik would have been happy to kiss Charles’ lips and get lost in it for a while. Those lips were tempting, but Erik had other plans for them.

He planted his knees on either side of Charles’ head, his cock jutting out parallel to Charles’ face. He ran his hand over his shaft in long, firm strokes from base to tip, not sparing a millimeter, to fully impress its size upon Charles. Charles’ wide eyes followed the movement. His hands came up to grip Erik’s hips as though to anchor him in place, to keep some control over where his cock was going. Erik couldn’t help but gloat a little. He dragged its head over the bottom lip, leaving it glistening. Charles chased the movement with his tongue, lapping up the streaks of fluid and meeting Erik's eyes as he swallowed it. Erik hadn't expected that, but he wasn’t going to complain about it. He pressed the blunt head against the seam of Charles’ mouth, parting his lips and sliding in with ease.

\---

Chau’s cock in his mouth felt… big. Charles was glad he’d never had much of a gag reflex. But it was good. Definitely good. The head and underside of Chau’s cock slid over Charles’ tongue with each slow roll of his hips. Charles imagined that same languid thrusting in his ass, Chau’s hands on his arms, pinning him in place. His poor neglected cock throbbed with the thought. He wanted to start stroking himself, but he loved the feel of Chau’s slim hips between his clutching hands too much to let go. Instead he moaned, wordlessly pleading, in the hope that Chau might take some pity on him.

But instead, Chau slid his fingers into Charles’ thick hair, taking hold and angling to thrust deeper. Charles whimpered and gagged a little as the head pressed against the back of his throat. Chau’s balls were practically resting on Charles’ chin at this point. He hollowed out his cheeks and looked up as he doubled down on the suction. He felt Chau’s fingertips dig into his scalp as he undulated, serpentine, and met Charles’ eyes like they were a challenge.

It may have been a blowjob that Charles was giving to a total stranger, but something about it was so intimate. The way Chau was all around him, hands in his hair and thighs by his ears and cock in his mouth and eyes on his eyes. The way Chau’s movements were slow and deliberate, almost sensual. It made Charles ache. He’d missed moments like this, all too often passed over for late nights at the lab. Charles had almost forgotten that he’d been good at this once. His body remembered what it was like, even if his mind didn’t, and it was as encouraging as it was satisfying to hear Chau’s half-choked, surprised groans when Charles did things with his tongue.

\---

Charles’ eyes were glassy with tears from the effort of taking Erik’s cock so far into his throat. But despite the wetness, they were smoldering with desire. His sweaty palms were cupping Erik’s ass, pulling him in close. Erik tightened his grip, pulling Charles’ hair and groaning when Charles’ eyes shuttered with lust. He snapped his hips forward and enjoyed the sound of Charles’ muffled moan. He wanted to finish like this, in spite of himself. He’d wanted to hold off, draw it out, but Charles was too good at working his tongue and cheeks in maddening ways. He tried to draw back, only to find Charles’ hands tightening their grip, holding him in place.

“I’m going to - “ His hips stuttered and he let his head drop backwards, hissing Charles’ name in warning. But Charles didn’t loosen his grip until Erik came down the back of his throat, grinding against his mouth, unabashedly groaning. He pulled out and unloaded the last few spurts over Charles’ cheek and the bridge of his nose.

He settled back onto his heels, all the air going out of him at once. Charles was looking up in a daze, lazy hands resting on Erik’s thighs, drops of come in the corners of his mouth. Erik dragged a finger through the stripes of come on Charles’ bright-red cheek and smeared it across his lips. Charles licked it off Erik’s fingertips and swallowed it like it was honey. Erik ran a hand down the man’s unsoiled cheek and let it rest there, rubbing a thumb over his cheekbone. Charles turned his face into the touch. He looked entirely too comfortable, all blissed-out and contented, even though Erik was the one who came. Watching him like that gave Erik an unfamiliar feeling, all warmth and nerves.

When Charles blinked up at him, Erik felt caught.

\---

Chau’s face looked like someone had punched him in the chest and he was trying to puzzle out exactly why they’d done that. Except he wasn’t looking at someone who had punched him, he was looking at Charles. Who still had streaks of cum on his face, not to mention a raging boner. Awkward. “Please,” he rasped, as he reached down for his own cock. Chau sprang back to life at that, reaching back to grasp Charles’ wrist as his face shuttered behind his usual suaveness again.

“You’re not done.” He grinned down at Charles - what a smug bastard. “Not by a long shot.” He climbed off Charles and rummaged around the side of the bed, producing the belt from his robe. “Give me your hands.”

“Oh… oh, why?” Charles groaned. How Chau had the audacity to come all over Charles’ mouth and face without so much as giving him a hand with his own engorged cock, Charles couldn’t understand. He even pouted a little while Chau bound his hands and tied them to the bedframe.

“All good things to those who wait.” Chau ruffled his hair. “I promise.” He slid off the bed and padded across the room to his small but well-stocked private bar.

“You aren’t serious.” Charles struggled against his bonds to no avail. His voice was rough and unfamiliar to his own ears.

“I’m very serious.” Chau cast a roguish smile over his shoulder. “Promise to make it worth your while. In due time, darling.”

Charles groaned. “Deoxyribonucleic acid” popped into his head - he could end it by saying the words, then finish himself off. Frustrated as he was over his ignored cock, though, he still couldn’t deny that the thought of being tied and at Chau’s mercy was exciting. He could be patient, he decided.

\---

Erik poured himself a whiskey, neat, and knocked it back. He found the burn of it invigorating and could easily have had another, but he wanted to keep his wits about him. He’d already lost control once, he didn’t mean to do it again.

Watching Charles writhe brought to mind all sorts of images of what he’d look like when Erik’s cock was inside him. With a wry grin, Erik licked the remnants of his drink from his lips. Erik was enjoying letting him struggle. It reminded Charles who was in charge, and it made for an excellent view besides.

Erik made his unhurried way into the bathroom, where he washed up a bit and regarded himself in the mirror. Still handsome, still austere; scar still prominent, color high in his cheeks. It’d still be a while before he’d be ready for another round, which was fine. It meant plenty of time to play with Charles, like a cat with so much yarn.

\---

Charles could hear Chau knocking around in the bathroom, taps running, cabinet doors opening. He sounded unhurried, which was annoying. In the hope that it might ease the ache of his overfilled cock, Charles was trying to steady himself and not remember what Chau looked like when he was coming. That was a challenge. He couldn’t easily shake that thought when every inhale smelled like Chau, whose come was still on his face.

The wait for the man to come in and do something to him again (and again, and, preferably, again) was only heightening his desire. Anticipation was thrumming through him with no sign of abating. But Chau had yet to give any sign of reappearing.

"God, please," he groaned to the empty room.

\---

After sourcing his lube of choice and moistening an Egyptian cotton washcloth with warm water, Erik made his way back to the bed. Charles’ struggles against his binds had abated, but he was shaking, tiny moans slipping out of his lips. His eyes were wordlessly entreating Erik to satisfy him. That, he would do.

He tossed the lube onto the bed and with a soft hand ran the washcloth over Charles’ face. Charles turned into the touch. He looked down at Charles’ still-heaving chest and his cock, lying flush against his belly.

He settled on his stomach between Charles’ legs and pressed a kiss to his thigh, rubbing soothing circles on his knee. “Spread your legs. More.”

\---

Charles barely even heard the words Chau was saying. He just drew his knees up towards his chest as an appeal to please, please, please get him off. He groaned when Chau’s tongue touched his hole again, a lot more gently than Charles might have hoped for. Then, he felt fingers broaching him and a tongue at his balls and he arched his neck, mouth falling open, huffing and moaning.

Charles dropped his feet against the mattress to brace himself. He couldn’t even remember the name of the last guy who had fingered him, but after thirty seconds of the same with Chau, he knew that nobody who had fingered him before knew what they were doing. Charles just thought fingering wasn’t really his thing. The ramrod in-out-in-out just didn’t cut it. But with Chau, it was different. His purposeful stroking was building up pleasure like a slow burn. Apparently fingering was Charles’ thing after all. Very much so. Coupled with Chau’s gentle sucking on his balls, it was enough to make him forget why they’d even do anything else. When Chau ran his tongue over the seam between his balls, Charles’ toes curled.

“Dothatthingwithyourtongueagain -- “

\---

It didn’t take very long until Charles was rocking his hips against Erik’s fingers, grunting and biting his lips. Erik loved the view from between his legs, from his hard cock up his heaving inked chest to his sweat-sheened face with bits of hair sticking to his forehead.

Erik was pretty sure he could make Charles come just from that if he kept it up. The thought was hot, but watching how sensually Charles responded to pleasure, he was starting to be ready for another round himself. With one more gentle kiss to Charles’ spit-wet balls, he withdrew his fingers and hitched Charles’ legs up, grasping the back of his knees. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he breathed. Charles nodded, frantic, and wriggled his hips. Erik chuckled. With one hand he grasped his own cock. “Ready?” He got a frustrated half-grunt half-yell in response to that. He was laughing openly now, enjoying the deepening of the flush on Charles’ face. Erik pressed the head of his cock against Charles’ entrance.

He pushed forward, broaching Charles with ease and stopping to tease with shallow thrusts. Charles looked shellshocked. He gasped softly with each pulse, and his parted lips opened to an O when Erik pressed further in. After another inch, then another, then another, Charles’ breathing came hard and fast. His mouth was wide open and silent.

\---

Chau was fucking enormous. Of course Charles knew that from taking him in his mouth, but taking him in the ass was a different story, and they’d only just started. It was almost unfair that Chau hadn’t had the courtesy to give warning of his massive dick before they’d agreed on this whole whatever-this-was. Not that Charles was complaining. At all. He groaned unabashedly as that monster cock slid into him, stretching him wider than he’d ever thought could be pleasurable.

Chau looked like he was enjoying himself as well, with a cocky grin and drops of sweat rolling down his smug face, but he was holding something back. He was staying in control as Charles writhed. Charles wasn’t sure if it was infuriating or incredibly hot. Both, he decided, as Chau winked and sank in deeper. Definitely both.

\---

Erik had to pause as he bottomed out in Charles. He closed his eyes and ran his hands up Charles’ sides, steadying himself. Charles wrapped his freed legs around Erik’s waist and wriggled against him, as if he could take him any deeper. Erik clamped his hands down on Charles’ hips to keep him in place. He dragged his cock out, then pushed back in with deliberate controlled slowness. Charles quivered underneath him.

He rested his chest flush against Charles’ and continued his slow, deep tempo. Their noses were touching. He could feel the heat from Charles’ breath on his own mouth. It was slow and steady, the perfect pace to hold Charles down and watch him feel everything. His brilliant eyes were glittering. Erik could keep this up for a while.

He shuffled his knees forward, digging even deeper and enjoying the soft choked groan from Charles. He rested his lips on Charles’ brow as he ground into him, with deep and purposeful motion that made Charles shake and moan. Erik ran his hands up Charles’ sides, over his trembling muscles, over his hardened nipples. Erik rested one hand on Charles’ shoulder and cupped the back of his neck with the other. He ran his thumb through the sweat-soaked hairs at the nape of Charles’ neck. Charles’ cock was trapped snugly between them. Erik could hear soft expletives slipping out with Charles’ breath.

Erik wanted to untie Charles’ wrists. He wanted to feel Charles clutching at him, scratching at him, whatever he’d do if he weren’t bound to the headboard. He knew that Charles had a bit of feist in him. But Charles was content with this kind of submission. With hands tied he was docile, happy to let Erik have his way. Erik lost track of how long they spent in their entwined rocking, but when he’d reduced Charles to helpless whimpers, he decided it was time to change the pace.

He grasped Charles’ thighs, pushed them up to his chest, and thrust harder and faster. The new unforgiving pace jarred Charles and shook the entire bed. Judging by the sounds coming out of Charles' mouth, it was a welcome move.

\---

Charles enjoyed the hell out of the slow, deliberate pace Chau initially set. Each assured pulse of his hips knocked the breath out of Charles. He was lost to it.

And then Chau folded him in half, and if Charles thought Chau was a good fuck before, that took it to another level. The pleasure was radiating throughout Charles' body as Chau’s cock worked his ass. Each stroke built him up closer and closer to coming.

Loud moans, hitching gasps and sighs, pleas and occasional swear words were slipping from between his bitten lips. He could hear the headboard slamming against the wall. He sent a wordless prayer of thanks out to the force of the universe that had landed him in Chau’s bed. Whatever that was.

\---

Erik was heedless of the exertion that burned his muscles. He reached down and grasped Charles’ cock, rubbing a teasing thumb under the head. Charles cried out and bucked like Chau's touch was electric. Erik bent down and fixed his mouth on Charles’, thrusting his tongue into his mouth at last. Charles was bucking up against him, matching his thrusts with feverish need. Erik could feel his noises as much as he could hear them and they drove him wild.

\---

Chau was kissing him.

Chau was finally - finallyfinallyfinally - grasping his cock.

Charles didn’t stand a chance.

He arched his back off the bed, tightening all over, and his mouth was frozen against Chau’s in a silent O while he came, splattering viscous ropes of cum onto both their stomachs. When he was spent completely he fell prone to the bed, jarred all the more by each thrust because he was so pliant. He'd feel it for days. Near-delirious with bliss, he let Chau’s tongue work around his own as Chau ground out his own orgasm into Charles.

\---

Erik collapsed on top of Charles, hips pulsing through the aftermath, the knot of tension in his belly working its way out. His fingers clutched at Charles’ arms and he rested his cheek on his shoulder.

With a soft kiss to Charles' throat, Erik reached up and untied Charles’ wrists at last. He rubbed at where the belt had dug into his flesh, eliciting a soft noise of contentment. Charles arched his neck and rolled his shoulder blades, dropping back to the bed with a contented huff. Erik peppered his jaw and cheeks with kisses. Charles was snuggleable. Soft and unassuming, like Erik could borrow in and get cozy. In a different light, Erik would have sensed a potential weakness from miles away and bolted. In the sticky post-coital haze, though, it felt right to curl up and give in.

\---

It took a few minutes for Charles to come back into himself. It took another few to take stock of where he was and who he was with and what his own name was. Then it occurred to him that he’d just gained a new appreciation for the phrase “fucked senseless.” He laughed at the thought with all the exhilaration of coming to the end of the track on the fastest, highest roller coaster in the world.

Chau’s body was draped over his like a warm, heavy blanket. Charles curled an arm around the small of his back. He could feel Chau’s breath tickling his throat, lips curling into a smile against his collarbone. “Something funny?” he mumbled.

Charles didn’t answer. He just chuckled, shaking his head. After a minute, Chau rolled onto his side, pulling Charles with him and settling a hand on his hip. Chau was looking at him across the pillow with a conspiratorial smile. Charles answered with a sleepy smile of his own as his eyelids began to flutter shut.

\---

Erik liked the way the flesh on Charles’ hip yielded easily to his thumb. He’d been tracing circles there for some time now, enjoying the feeling of having a guileless lover in his bed. He wanted Charles to stay. They hadn’t done anything off-the-wall, but the sheer chemistry had made the sex incredible. From the taste he’d gotten, Erik was pretty sure he wanted Charles to stick around. Charles was receptive and enthusiastic and Erik could only imagine what sort of shenanigans they could get up to in bed, given the chance.

He had no reason or right to feel as comfortable as he did in Charles’ presence. He had no idea how to ask Charles to stay a while. He just knew he had to find a way.

Their sweat was cooling, their hearts were slowing, and the silence was turning awkward. Erik didn’t want to disentangle his legs from Charles’, or pull apart from his warmth. He licked his lips. “I wanted to be a scientist once.” Not the slickest pillow talk, but it would serve.

“Did you? What did you end up doing instead?” Charles’ voice was polite, but still a little hoarse, Erik noted smugly.

“Trading, of course.”

Charles’ lazy eyes drifted open. “You must know your stuff to run the kind of, um, operations you do.”

“It takes a little trial and error, but having some scientific knowledge goes a long way in harvesting and preparing the materials. Not to mention finding the appropriate applications. It’s not all snake oil.”

Charles looked so blissful and content that Erik had the sudden urge to lean in and kiss him, but he wasn’t sure if that would be weird. Even if they had just fucked. “We should talk more about that,” he murmured. “If we could fully study and understand the medicinal properties of the Kaiju parts, imagine what we could do with that knowledge.”

“Pharmaceutical companies would pay a lot for that knowledge.”

“You’d be a billionaire.”

“I am a billionaire.” Charles chuckled. “I mean it.”

“You’d be a multi-billionaire. A gazillionaire.”

“Trillionaire comes first, I think.”

Charles smiled at him, blinking against the sleepiness in his eyes. “So will I just always call you Hannibal?”

“Call me Hannibal to everyone else. When it’s just us, you can call me Erik.” He hoped he wouldn’t regret that concession later.

“Erik.” The name was slow to form in his throat, like he was feeling it out. “Good to meet you, Erik.”

Erik stroked Charles’ hair and considered him. “We’ll have to see that you get what you came for.”

Charles stirred. His brows knit, perplexed, but then his confusion cleared and he chuckled an of-course chuckle to himself. “First time I’ve actually hoped for a Kaiju attack.”

“I don’t believe you.” Erik nipped at his wrist, nuzzling his tattooed forearm.

“No, really! I… they’re fascinating but that’s all. I don’t want them to come.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Erik bumped his nose against Charles’ and grinned at the brilliant smile he got in reply. “What do you need a Kaiju brain for, anyway?”

“That’s classified. I couldn’t tell you if I wanted to… But it is pretty cool. You see, I, uh, I think it could be possible - theoretically - to drift with a Kaiju brain, which would give us tremendous insight into how they operate, which would help strengthen our defenses.”

“Drift with a Kaiju brain?!” Erik sat bolt upright. “How?”

“Well, much the same way Jaeger pilots would drift with each other. But we need a fresh brain, one that we could isolate from a Kaiju body and keep alive - we can do it in a lab, or at the site of the body, but we need it before brain death occurs.”

“You’d make an adorable lab rat, but how would you keep from getting hurt? The drift is physically - “

“Yes, yes, I know. Suffice to say, I’m not worried.” The last word caught on a yawn. Charles' eyes drifted shut.

“You ought to be.”

“Please. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“How could you possibly…” Erik lapsed into silence. “Oh. You’ve gone and done it, haven’t you.”

Charles’ eyes opened. “I did it a little bit, yeah.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No plot points to explain, just boning. 
> 
> Heads up for terrible safeword practices, unsafe sex, & the phrase "spit-wet balls" (ew, sorry).


	3. Part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik shows Charles what Hannibal Chau is capable of. Charles returns the favor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the love! I would love to have a beta for future stories, so if you're interested, please drop me a line in the comments. 
> 
> Plot background/Pacific Rim spoilers and content flags in the endnotes.

Warning lights passed over Charles' face in their wide sweep through the storefront. The man was looking at him with wide, shocked eyes. He hadn't anticipated this. He was expecting Erik's sympathy. 

Erik’s people were awaiting leave to take shelter, but they would carry out any order he gave first. He could feel their expectant gazes boring into him.

He looked back to Charles. From the looks on all their faces, one might think Charles was looking at a different person than everyone else. If only, Erik rued. He would have loved to indulge Charles' favorable impression of him. He wanted to bask in Charles' mistaken belief that Erik was a good person until he believed it himself. 

But everyone else had been there, listening, when Charles and Erik realized what was happening. They knew the Kaiju sirens were sounding because of Charles. Those were the people who followed Erik's orders. Their respect for him was non-negotiable; if he lost it, they could break him with ease. Letting Charles warm his home for a while was a sweet dream, but a dream nonetheless. If he slipped, they would all abandon him, and his palace of opulence and security would crumble. 

Weakness, in front of them, was not an option. 

“Sorry, darling. I’m going to my private Kaiju bunker. You’re not coming with.”

“But - “

“Hope the Jaegers get to this one before it gets to you.” With a dismissive flick of his hand, Erik turned his back. His men grabbed Charles by the shoulders and dragged him towards the door, heedless of his desperate cries.

Erik strode towards the center of the building. A display case full of jars of Kaiju viscera would part to reveal the elevator that would carry him to his underground bunker. His henchmen would get rid of Charles, then they’d each go to their private niche in the network of shelters beneath the shop. They would reconvene afterwards and develop their harvesting plan.

Because that was what Erik did. He looked out for himself and expected others to do the same, and then he took care of business. There was no need to be soft.

Even if Charles had floppy hair and dorky Kaiju tattoos. Even if he was an enthusiastic, receptive lover. Even if Erik felt like his gorgeous eyes were boring into the back of his skull when he knew they couldn't possibly be.

He tripped the secret mechanism to summon the elevator.

Erik had long since waived his right to give or receive tenderness. He was Hannibal Chau, ruthless businessman extraordinaire, and he could not afford to be swayed by blue eyes and a boundless enthusiasm for science. Not when that boundless enthusiasm had brought an unprecedented second Kaiju attack on Hong Kong. Charles would be a liability. And besides, he’d be all right on his own. He was smart, he’d know how to stay safe. Erik wasn’t putting him in any real danger by sending him away. It’s not like the Kaiju could know his exact location at any given time.

Or could they? Erik’s gut twisted at the thought of Charles running through abandoned streets with a Kaiju on his heels.

He stepped into the elevator and scanned his retinas. He chewed at the inside of his cheek as the doors began to slide shut. He closed his eyes and rested his head against the back wall. There was no need to jeopardize himself by keeping Charles close. None. He wouldn’t even remember Charles’ name, in time. Even if he wouldn't forget his face.

No sooner had he had that thought than an arm covered in Kaiju tattoos forced open the elevator doors. Erik blinked at Charles in surprise as he squeezed his way into the elevator. “You son of a bitch!” Charles snarled, panting.

“What happened to your lip?” Erik reached out. Charles batted his hand away.

“I had to fight off four of your men to get back here,” he panted as the elevator doors slid shut. “You were really going to do it, weren’t you? You were going to have them throw me out!”

“You took four of them by yourself? Really?”

“Yes.” He sagged against the wall, grasping the bar and closing his eyes as he caught his breath.

Erik raised an eyebrow.

\---

After the longest elevator ride of Charles’ life, the doors parted to reveal a bunker as fancy as Erik's - no, Chau’s - private rooms. Among its amenities was a stocked bar, CCTV showing points all over the city, and a couch about the size of Charles’ bedroom.

The shine of it all had worn off. All he could think about was the people huddled in the dank, flimsy public shelters, just blocks away.

He flopped onto the couch as Chau stood to the side, shrugging off his jacket and draping it over the back of the couch. He could feel Chau's eyes on him. He crossed his arms over his chest and stared at the security monitors. The streets of Hong Kong were empty in that calm-before-the-storm way they always were between detection and landfall.

“I, ah.” Chau cleared his throat. “Look, it’s not personal, kid.”

“I’m not a kid. And it is personal. It can’t be anything but personal.”

He tried not to flinch as Chau dropped onto the couch next to him. He was closer than he needed to be for the space they had. “Look, it’s a… it’s a self-preservation thing, right? Now that we’ve had time to cool down, think about things, you’re not in any more danger than anyone else in the city. They can’t know where you are at any given time, can they?”

“I don’t know."

“In any case." Chau shifted, apparently uncomfortable. "Sorry I called you a goddamn moron. I have to say, it took balls to do what you did.”

“I know. Balls and brains.”

“That’s more than most people have.”

Charles sighed and dropped his head against the back of the couch. In spite of his own words, he felt like an idiot. “Do you ever stop to think how much safer people would be if you put a fraction of the money you put towards yourself towards the public Kaiju shelters? You’d save lives.”

After a beat, Chau chuckled. “A conscience, too. They should study you in a lab.”

\---

Charles scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck you.” Then, “God, I’m such an asshole.”

“No, you’re not. Trust me, I’m an asshole, I know one when I see one.”

“You really are. I can’t believe you tried to send me out there.”

Erik knew that there was no way he could explain himself to Charles. He could read him, even better than he could read most people. Charles never knew the streets. He was aware of his good fortune, but it had shielded him from the kind of fire that had forged Erik. Charles had no frame of reference for what self-preservation truly meant. He didn't know how kindness could be a weakness, let alone another person a vulnerability. 

So, Erik shrugged.

“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time.”

“You’re such a bastard.”

“Yes I am. And you’re stuck with me until either the Kaiju are dead, or we are. How shall we amuse ourselves? I have a few board games in the back…”

“Shut up.”

For a moment, Erik did, then he sighed. “Well, if you’re inclined to sulk, I’ll be putting the television on.”

\---

Charles shouldn’t have been surprised that Hannibal Chau was a prick, yet there he was. What did he think? That making Charles cum made Erik - Chau - a gentleman? He had the nerve to talk to Charles about his one-time dreams of being a scientist, and Charles was idiot enough to swallow it. It shouldn’t have felt like a betrayal. But it did. Knowing how stupid it was only made it worse.

Charles cast a sidelong glance at Chau, who was twisted over the side of the couch in search of the remote control. His mouth twitched. It was hard to reconcile the best fuck he’d ever had with the worst person he’d ever met. In light of what Erik -  _Chau_ \- had done, what was playful and mutually satisfying before now seemed sordid. Charles could only imagine the contempt Chau had for him if he'd been so ready to throw him out like Kaiju bait.

Maybe Charles' proposition hadn't been so unexpected after all. Maybe he'd played into Chau's hands. Maybe Chau thought he'd won something Charles wouldn't otherwise give. That, more than anything, rankled. 

On principle, he wanted to wrangle down the urge to work out his anger on Chau’s cock. But Chau had gotten so thoroughly under his skin that he couldn’t think of any other way to get it out of his system.

So when Chau sat up, Charles pounced.

\---

It was pretty difficult to take Erik by surprise.

But Charles had him on the floor and on his back before he had any reaction time. He stared up in bewilderment as Charles fussed with his pants, brow furrowed. He looked for all the world like he wanted to beat the shit out of Erik’s zipper for catching at an inconvenient moment. Erik would have been glad to give him a hand, but he suspected that if he interfered, Charles would slap him.

At last the stuck zipper gave, and pants and boxers were tugged down to his knees before Charles divested himself of his own and straddled him.

Erik was breathing hard through gritted teeth. Charles was looking down at him, face impassive. “We’re doing this on my terms this time.”

Not trusting himself to speak, Erik nodded.

\---

Charles grasped Chau’s already-stiff cock at the base and guided it to his hole, sinking down with ease. Chau’s eyes were wide - not altogether unhappy about the situation, but disconcerted, maybe. Charles suspected that Chau didn’t find himself on his back all that much. He was grimly satisfied to change that.

Chau’s hands were sliding up his thighs, settling on his hips and gripping tight. Braced with his hands on Chau’s shoulders, Charles found the right spot and rocked. It felt fantastic. Cathartic, even.

Chau was gazing up at him. The fine fabric of his shirt clung to the wet spots on his chest. Charles looked down at Chau's parted lips and flushed cheeks. Submission was a good look on him. If only they’d brought the lube, Charles thought, he would’ve loved to watch Chau squirm as Charles pounded him.

When Chau’s eyes went round, Charles realized that he’d said that last bit aloud. He couldn’t suppress a smirk. Chau’s hips were thrusting up into him, tiny little bucks that were hitting him just right. If he wanted to get more leverage, he wouldn’t; Charles’ thighs were pinning him in place. But he seemed to not mind so much. “Charles,” he rasped.

“Stop talking,” Charles snapped. It seemed to drive Chau even crazier. His grip on Charles' hips tightened. He arched his neck, gasping as Charles rode him.

“Oh, fuck…”

“I said,” Charles ground out, sliding one hand up Chau’s throat, “stop talking.” He settled his open palm on Chau's face, the heel of his hand over his mouth. He splayed his fingers, bracing his thumb on a cheekbone. He could feel hot puffs of breath from Chau’s nose hitting the vee between his thumb and forefinger. It formed a striking frame for Chau's scarred eye. 

\---

Nobody could undo Hannibal Chau with so much ease. No one.

But maybe believing that had been Erik’s weakness. Maybe Charles caught him off guard because of it.

To his own dismay, Erik wasn’t even mad. He was enjoying the hell out of this. Charles’ hand was hot and firm on his face, keeping him down. His rhythm was maddeningly good.

He could get used to this. When Charles said the thing about fucking him, he'd felt a rush of arousal so heady he was weak. No one ever talked to Hannibal Chau like that. Nobody ever dared. But looking up at Charles, he would have spread his legs for him eagerly. Maybe it was for the best that they’d left the lube upstairs.

\---

After quieting Chau with a hand to the face, only Charles' open-mouthed moans and the wet slapping of flesh sounded off the thick walls of the shelter.

He’d later realize that he missed the opportunity to watch live as a Kaiju took a freighter to the face. He’d just have to hope that his grandkids never asked where he was during that historic attack.

But in the moment, he could feel the familiar tendrils of pleasure radiating out from his cock and ass to his stomach and his thighs. He took a hand from Chau’s shoulder to stroke himself, pausing to ruck up Chau’s shirt before grasping his own cock. He wanted to come on Chau’s stomach. He wanted Chau feel it like a brand, like he'd felt Chau's come on his face. Chau's eyes were fixed on his cock, enjoying the show. Charles could feel the vibration of his moans against his hand. 

It wasn’t much longer after that that Chau’s thighs started to tense. His upward pulses became desperate and erratic. Charles bore down harder and Chau came, his open-mouthed groan muffled by Charles’ palm.

Charles sat back on his heels, taking Chau into him to the hilt. He groaned loud and low as he shot off, his hand a blur on his own cock, his come pooling in Chau’s quivering navel.

After a few breaths, he slid his hand from Chau’s face down to his throat, then to his chest. His shirt hadn’t been spared; a few long spurts had reached it. Charles didn’t care.

\---

Erik was shaking as Charles clambered off his hips. It had been so, so long since anyone held him down and fucked him. It felt nice to end that streak. They'd been snuggling and pillow-talking barely an hour and a half earlier. Erik would have sworn then that sweet, dorky Charles didn’t have it in him. Lying on his back and gasping for breath, he was darkly pleased to have been wrong.

He rolled his head to the side and watched Charles walk towards the pants he’d thrown. The view of Charles’ shirt, stuck to a broad stripe of sweat that ran straight down to his naked ass, was impressive. Erik did his best to commit that sight to memory. He was pretty sure Charles wasn’t going to let him hit it again. A damn shame, but he’d brought it upon himself, he supposed.

With a heaving sigh he sat up, tucking his cock back in and zipping his pants. He leaned against the couch and looked up to the monitors. They were showing destruction throughout the neighborhood, plus one Kaiju corpse. Not a Jaeger in sight on the cameras, and the Kaiju warning was still in effect. Hopefully that meant the other one was off getting trounced somewhere. The sooner they could move on the Kaiju carcasses, the better. Erik was prone to anxiousness during Kaiju attacks. This time, though, he wasn’t too worked up about it.

Charles sidled over to him, unbuttoning his shirt, and perched on an armrest. He’d taken liberties at the bar and had a drink in hand, Erik noted with faint amusement. He lay his shirt out over the back of the sofa to dry and joined Erik in staring at the CCTV monitors. He cleared his throat. “We, um. We missed quite a bit, didn’t we?” he rued. 

“It appears so.”

“Why hasn’t the Kaiju alert been lifted?”

“Presumably because the second one hasn’t been taken down yet.”

“Right.” They lapsed into an awkward silence. Erik switched on the main television monitor. It asked them to “Please Stand By for Further Information” in six languages.

“Well.”

“Stop talking.”

Erik looked over at him, considering. “You knew who I was when you came to me. What changed?”

“Because you acted decent. You didn’t have to, you know.” Charles was looking at the floor. Erik’s mouth twitched. Something unfamiliar and unpleasant bubbled up in him. No sooner had he registered the strange feeling than it was subsumed by exasperation. 

“All the same, you knew who I am. You had warning. You knew what to expect.”

Charles glared at him. “I think people can be trusted to do the right thing when situations arise. You’re making it hard to believe that right now.” Erik felt a flicker of that thing again. Guilt. No, not just guilt. _Shame_. It was unfamiliar and uncomfortable and altogether new to him. Wasn’t it? Or had he just become used to it, a fixture in his life that had faded from his awareness by its ubiquity? "And you’re still talking." And gone. 

“The right thing for whom, exactly?”

Charles’ eyes narrowed. “For everyone.” His voice was edged with genuine anger.

“Just one right thing for everyone? No such thing. Nobody ever did ‘the right thing’ for me except for me. Where basic fucking survival is on the line -- ”

“I live and work where survival is on the line! Don’t you dare patronize me - “

“Oh, it’s easy to be a hero when the options are either die fighting or go easy. Human against Kaiju is an easy fight to join. But when it’s human against human, you find out fast what humans are capable of. I won’t apologize for winning a zero-sum game.”

Erik was expecting some defense of the goodness of mankind, as impassioned as it was tedious. The only reason he was still bothering was because he hoped he could parlay verbal sparring into another round of angry sex. That would be much more interesting. 

But instead, Charles’ glare had softened into curiosity. “Where are you from?”

Taken aback, Erik asked, “What?” Then after a beat, “Why?”

“I’m just wondering.”

Erik scoffed. “Why, because you want to - “ Before he could deflect, the walls shook. Their eyes locked in a shared oh-shit before they turned back to the CCTV monitors.

\---

Chau’s undoubtedly cliched tragic backstory would have to wait for another day, because the Kaiju vs. Jaeger fight was happening meters from the storefront at ground level. Charles hoped to hell that the bunker was as fortified as it looked.

He chewed at his lower lip and watched as the Jaeger threw a punch. He drew a shaky breath and Chau reached out, curled a hand around his wrist, said something about how well-reinforced every layer of defense was and not to worry --

“Those are my friends in there,” Charles murmured. Chau's thumb rubbed soothing circles on the inside of Charles’ wrist. “I’m sure they’re going to take it out.“ Chau’s voice was almost tender.

"Look at it." His voice had dropped to a near whisper. "Its size, its lethality... its ease of movement. Elegant, almost. God, it's like the perfect organism. Just think of the engineering behind it." He couldn't hide the awe in his voice. The touch on Charles' wrist faltered, but resumed after a moment. Charles was grateful for it. The touch grounded him, if nothing else. It was almost distracting. Almost. When the Kaiju drifted out of the picture on the monitor, he stole a glance over at Chau. He was looking at Charles strangely. He looked curious, rather than judgmental, but it sobered Charles all the same. 

Charles looked back at the monitors in time to see the Kaiju’s wings opening.

“FUCK,” he yelled. “Oh my god. Did you see that?! Did you -- ”

\---

Charles had leapt to his feet and was pacing in front of the couch, hands buried in his hair. “That was…” He looked up at Erik, wild-eyed. “That was…”

“I know.” Erik heaved up from the couch and made his way to the bar.

“It was… aw… awe... awful… but awesome… but awful.” There was a hysterical edge to his voice.

Erik poured three fingers of bourbon for each of them.

The walls shook as if they’d been hit with an earthquake. “Look!” Charles cried, pointing to a monitor. Dust and debris almost obscured the outline of a Kaiju carcass. From the looks of it it had fallen from a pretty good distance; the Jaeger landed on its feet with another crash, sending the walls rumbling again.

“Oh, thank God, thank God…” Charles sidled over, hands over his face, and rested his elbows against the bar.

“Here, have a drink.” Erik nudged a tumbler across the bar with one finger. “To the end of the world, delayed once again.” Charles parted his fingers and looked down at the glass through them, considering. Then he lowered his hands from his face and accepted the proffered drink.

“Thanks.” After a sardonic clink against Erik’s glass, Charles took a healthy sip and a deep breath. “God, that was…”

“Something else, wasn’t it.”

“Wings.”

“Astonishing.”

“Terrifying.”

“Incredible.”

“And we’ll be the first to get a close-up look at the Kaiju wings, won’t we,” Charles mused. A slow smile crept across his face.

“One more toast. To comparative Kaiju anatomy.”

“Cheers to that.” They clinked glasses, purposefully this time, and drank. Charles lowered his near-empty glass to the bar and looked back over to the monitors. The dust had begun to clear around the fallen Kaiju, which appeared to have been bisected by some Jaeger weapon or other. That must have been what Charles was looking at with such intensity. But Erik found that he was less interested in the monitors than he was in Charles, with his furrowed brow and pursed lips.

Erik felt another pang of remorse at trying to send Charles away. If Charles hadn’t fought his way back, Erik would never have known what Charles looked like when his tongue mindlessly ran over his lip to catch the remnants of a drink, and that would have been a damn shame.

He opened his mouth. Then he closed it again. Then he opened it. Then closed it.

“I, um.” Charles’ face snapped back to him like he’d forgotten Erik was there. “Listen, Charles, I… about before… I’m sorry.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “You should be.” He drained his glass, holding Erik’s eyes. “But thanks.”

“I just - with everyone there…” He grimaced, unable to explain. It wasn’t that he didn’t know why he’d done it. That was easy - he was afraid to look weak. But deep in the bunker with only Charles and not a soul around to hear them, admitting that he was afraid to look weak felt like a weakness. So he looked down into his own glass, noticed it was low, and reached for the bottle.

\---

Chau didn't need to finish his thought. Charles could see him with perfect clarity. It was the strangest thing.

Charles always told himself that the sort of bond that indicated drift compatibility was vanishingly rare, and he just saw a disproportionate amount of them in his line of work. Most people outside the Shatterdome could have dozens of meaningful, loving relationships without having what it takes to make a drift pair of any of them. Even on a scientific level, the factors that determined drift compatibility were poorly understood. It wasn't unusual to not have that bond. Charles knew intellectually that that was true, even if being surrounded by people who did have that bond made it not feel true sometimes. 

He'd never understood the co-pilots who were drift compatible even when they didn't like each other so much, but there were a few pairs like that. Someone explained to him that drift compatibility was something more, something deeper. He'd heard it described as soul mates, bonded and alike on some level that was unchanged by waxing and waning affection, or when the drift wasn't necessary for one to know what the other was thinking or feeling. He'd never gotten it, but as a K-scientist he didn't really have to, so he just went with it. But Charles suddenly understood, because looking at Chau's face and his downcast eyes, he _felt_ it, with a certainty that took his breath away. 

Charles could read Chau like his thoughts were written on his face. He'd been wrong to think that Chau was, well, Chau. _Erik_ was the man. Chau was the act and Erik hated it, even as he wore it like a shield against his insecurities and vulnerabilities. It didn't make what he did okay, but it made Charles understand why, at least. 

“It’s all right,” Charles said. “Really. I appreciate your apology. Can I trouble you for another sip or twenty?”

\---

Erik smiled, eyes still downcast, and obliged him. After a moment, Charles said, “Mind if I ask something personal?” Erik looked up at that, arching an eyebrow.

“Go ahead.”

“How did you get the scar?”

“Oh,” Erik laughed. “Not personal at all. Early days of the Kaiju War. Public shelter.”

“Must have been a pretty close call.” Charles’ voice was quiet. Reverent, almost.

He took a drink. “I wish I could tell you I remembered what the thing looked like but I don’t. I remember what it felt like, though. Not - ” he waved his hand at his face - “but being in the shelter. So dark you couldn’t see anything. It was cold. Damp, too. Felt like pneumonia would kill you before the Kaiju could. The helplessness was the worst part. Until the thing turned on the lights.” He smiled wryly. “I made out better than most, though.”

“Which attack was this?”

“Tokyo. After that, I said I’d never let it happen to me again. And it hasn’t.” Glass in hand, he gestured around the bunker. “I took up trading, starting with that one’s corpse, and here I am.”

“Here you are,” Charles murmured. He leaned over the bar and stroked Erik’s scar with soft fingers, looking at it like it was a museum piece. Erik closed his eyes and let Charles run his fingertips along the scar, over his eyelids and onto his cheek. “Incredible,” he breathed. “By the shape of it you can almost see how she hit you, it’s like the edge of a claw just glanced off your face. An inch closer and…” Charles must have remembered himself, because his touch stalled and he trailed off. When Erik opened his eyes, Charles was looking at him. “I - sorry.” He withdrew his hand.

“No, it’s… fine.” And it was. Erik didn’t mind at all. He quirked his lips at Charles, who reached out again with tentative fingers. With featherlight strokes he mapped the path of the scar, but this time he was looking at Erik, present and deliberate. Erik was holding his breath.

They stayed like that for a few moments until the television screen flickered to life and announced that the Kaiju alert was lifted. Charles glanced over his shoulder at the screen and turned back to Erik with a grin. Their faces were close. His breath faltered. 

Erik squeezed Charles’ shoulder and rounded the bar. He went to the couch and tossed Charles his shirt. He’d have a report from Pentecost when they surfaced, inviting him to a historic harvest.

He glanced around, making sure everything was in order, before he summoned the elevator. Charles joined him, buttoning up his shirt.

Erik reached over and straightened the collar of Charles’ shirt, smoothing the wrinkles down the front. When he looked up, Charles was looking at him with steely determination.

“You owe me a Kaiju brain.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Background: By drifting with a Kaiju brain, Charles discovered that all Kaiju and their creators share a hive mind - which means that when he drifted with one, he shared his mind with them all. They know what he knows about the humans' defense program, so a Kaiju is sent to attack Hong Kong, the base of the Jaeger program's operations. Ranger = another word for Jaeger pilots; Shatterdome = the base of the Jaeger program operations. 
> 
> Content warnings: dubcon/rough/angry sex & alcohol.


	4. Part III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See endnotes for Pacific Rim spoilers/plot points, if you want to fill in the gaps.

Charles walked down the streets in a daze.

The last of the Kaiju had terrorized Earth.

There was music and dancing and chanting and prayer. People were producing bottles of celebratory liquor from buildings that may or may not have been theirs. Strangers were stopping him for hugs and kisses.

Charles was glad for it all. He really was.

Humanity was safe, at least from the Kaiju. He deserved a generous sidebar in the epic story of how the Jaegers saved the world, if not a whole page.

He was on the periphery of a celebration of an unprecedented scale. The world’s-not-ending party would be raging in every city along the Pacific Rim. Hell, every city in the world. The elation would power celebrations that would last for days, if not weeks.

But Charles was too exhausted to take part in what would probably be the most historic party ever. He was too weak from the drift, too shell-shocked from being chased by a baby Kaiju (not to mention how it fucking ate Chau, which Charles didn’t even have the energy to begin processing yet). He was too sobered by the loss of friends and colleagues who gave their lives to save humanity, and he was too damn hungry, because it's not like he had time to squeeze in a snack while saving the world.

If he couldn’t take part in the celebration he’d drift around the margins of it instead, buoyed through his weakness by the peace and satisfaction of knowing he’d done something really good for humanity. It was the noblest goal he could possibly strive for, and he’d done it.

But Charles couldn’t help but feel a certain strange hollowness. There would be no more Kaiju. That was an objectively good thing. But that also meant that Charles’ sense of purpose was set adrift. He had been so lucky to grow up with childhood passions that translated easily into a career that he loved. He got to pioneer the study of a completely foreign lifeform. He saw all the countries of the world unite to develop the Jaegers. He was one of the two people alive who had seen another dimension. He’d drifted with a Kaiju. It was all so… so… _awesome_. But more important than awesome, it all meant something. It mattered. _He_ mattered.

Now that the world was saved, there was no more Kaiju threat, so no more need for K-science.

What was left for him?

“You did it again, didn’t you?”

Charles spun on his heel, astonished. “You! How did you - “

“Unlike some of us, a dead Kaiju can’t swallow very well.” Chau - Erik - was drenched and clean-smelling, dressed plainly, no glasses. Charles would have had to look twice to recognize him if he hadn’t opened his mouth first. He wrapped an arm around Charles’ waist and pulled him close. “And I’m very glad to have run into you.” He planted a long kiss on Charles’ mouth. “Party’ll still be here tomorrow,” he panted, “if you want to come rest up at my place.”

Charles wanted to say no, but with Erik kissing him again, his resolve withered. Loath though he was to admit it, he was relieved to see Erik alive.

When Erik drew back, Charles said, “Okay.” He leaned up for another kiss, which landed somewhere on Erik’s jaw when a group of whooping passersby jostled him forward. “One condition, though.”

“Anything,” Erik answered, much too quickly.

“Buy me dinner first.”

“Buy you dinner?” Erik’s skeptical eyes roved over the crowd. “Think anyone’s serving right now?”

“Oh my god, Erik.” The man’s eyes snapped back to his face. “Not like that. You know what I mean. I’m fucking ravenous, I’d do unspeakable things for some pork belly and I’ve been told you’re good at finding things. So let’s strike a deal.” A slow grin was spreading across Erik’s face. “Don’t look at me like that. I’d kill a man for some noodles. I swear. I’m not kidding. I’m not kidding!” Erik was laughing. The temerity of that bastard.

“Trust me, I don’t doubt you.” Erik's fingers were clutching Charles' arms like they were a lifesaver as he kissed Charles' forehead. "Deal." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Background: When Erik and Charles leave the bunker, they find the dead Kaiju, which turns out to be pregnant with a baby Kaiju that breaks out and tries to swallow Erik whole before it strangles itself by its own umbilical cord. Erik is stuck in the baby Kaiju's mouth, since it dies before it can swallow him, and he eventually hacks his way out (yes, this whole thing is exactly as ridic as it sounds, but it makes more sense on screen - this crossover AU is just a smut vehicle that grew some feels, don't mind me). After Erik is apparently eaten, Charles uses the fresh Kaiju carcass to attempt the drift before brain death sets in. He successfully extracts information that's instrumental to the Jaegers closing the breach and ending the Kaiju attacks. The Jaegers close the breach. The world is saved. 
> 
> ...for now.


	5. Epilogue

_One year later..._

Charles was bent over some lab notes, doing that thing with his mouth that he did when he was thinking. From the doorframe, Erik could practically see the nervous energy thrumming through his limbs.

He was happy like this, with his own private lab and exclusive access to all the Kaiju tissue he could ever hope to study. Being Hannibal Chau’s kept boy wasn't such a terrible trade. Charles was certainly proactive in seeing that his end of the deal was kept. There were moments when he would get this self-satisfied smirk on his face when he thought Erik wasn’t looking.

But Erik was always looking. 

“Knock, knock.” Erik strode into the lab, golden shoes clinking. Charles straightened. The color in his cheeks was higher than usual. He had a feverish glitter in his eye. “Something exciting happening?”

Charles nodded, beaming. He turned to face Erik as he walked up behind the desk. “So exciting. So, so, SO exciting! We think we’ve finally been successful in our attempts to grow Kaiju liver tissue. This has tremendous implications, Erik - think of how promising your Kaiju stomach lining drug trials have been and imagine what we could do - “ Erik pulled him into an embrace and pressed close to him, bumping his hips against the bench.

“Glad to see my grant money going to good use. We’ll get started on the patent paperwork right away.” He kissed Charles’ forehead.

“Don’t play the hard-arse businessman right now. Of course we’d open the patent. This could be the cure for cancer!” One hand was cupping the back of Erik’s neck, the other resting on his shoulder. “This could be the greatest thing for humanity since… since… since agriculture. Since the printing press. Since the smallpox vaccine.”

Erik sighed against Charles’ temple. Try as he might to play the stern businessman, he really couldn’t deny his favorite K-scientist anything. He also would never admit it aloud, but the possibilities of what Charles had achieved were stirring. He rested his chin on Charles’ shoulder and swept his eyes over the bench, surveying the samples and specimens and scribbled notes with keen interest. “Well, if you can grow Kaiju tissue with that…” He pointed to a formula in Charles’ scraggly handwriting. Charles craned his neck to follow. “...you’d be able to apply this same process to grow bones for powder as well, then, won’t you? Should be easy? You’d just need to make a few tweaks.”

“Yes! Absolutely! Lower priority, of course, but that should be simple enough. And that formula we can keep proprietary, if you insist.” He was stroking the nape of Erik’s neck with the pad of his thumb.

“I do insist.” Erik drew him in and kissed him again. “As well as the hair growth formula. And any other cosmetic or non-life-saving treatment.”

“What about quality-of-life treatments?”

“We’ll take those on a case-by-case basis.”

“Excellent. Oh, Erik, it’s the most brilliant  - the tissue replicates so quickly you can practically watch it grow - you can literally watch it grow, actually, if you’re patient enough - it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before in my life, it’s like - “

“Did you just…?” Erik ground his hips up against Charles. “Are you getting hard?”

“...Well, you’re terribly close,” Charles breathed. Erik started to nibble on his ear, trailing down to his throat. His hands slid down Charles’ back to settle on his hips. “And this is all terribly exciting.”

Erik grinned into the crook of Charles’ neck. “You are such a Kaiju groupie.”

“It keeps you well paid.”

“It does.” Erik squeezed his ass and kissed his neck. “I want to hear all the sexy details over dinner tonight. How much longer until you’re ready to head out?”

“Well…” Charles wriggled his hips against Erik’s. “I could be ready to go now. All that’s left to do is let the cells - “ Erik cut him off with a kiss.

“I’ve heard enough. Get your coat.”

\---

It was dark in the erstwhile Kaiju bunker except for the flickering screen, playing some old movie from the early days of CGI. Charles’ feet were propped up on one of the new ottomans. He was warm and sleepy and blissed out from spending the evening in bed. Clearly Erik was too - he’d started to snore with his head in Charles' lap. That meant Charles was stuck in his seat, which was fine with him. He loved the feel of Erik’s hair between his fingers. It kept Charles’ hands occupied, which helped keep him from scratching his latest tattoo - a chest piece, still fresh and healing. He was particularly proud of that one. Erik had helped with the three-Kaiju design. He insisted on helping to care for it, too. He said that since he helped design it, he had a vested interest in seeing that it healed properly. Charles suspected he really just wanted the excuse to rub cocoa butter on Charles' chest. 

A year before to the hour, Charles was kicking around the idea of drifting with a Kaiju brain. He had no clue that he’d precipitate the Kaiju war’s denouement in so doing. It felt like ancient history and it felt like yesterday, all at once. 

Who would have thought that this was where Charles would end up?

Charles hadn’t wanted to like Erik so much. He'd wanted to secure his financial support and ride his dick and let that be the end of it. Charles didn’t notice what was happening until he realized he didn’t want out. It took a few months, but when Erik agreed to let Charles strip the bunker of its trappings and turn it into their private nook, nestled away from the city noise, Charles knew Erik felt the same.

Erik's placid face was blue by the light from the film. Charles rubbed the side of his thumb along Erik’s jaw, warmed through by fondness. He never could imagine himself piloting a Jaeger, but sometimes when he was feeling romantic, he’d imagine that he and Erik met as co-pilots in training. He'd dream that he could see the Kaiju up close and in action, and by his side, Erik could fight away his nightmares. Erik's scars were deeper than his skin and older than the Kaiju War. Charles wished he could not only see Erik vanquish them but _feel_  it, share in his catharsis, and sleep soundly knowing it was done.

But things didn't work like that. Charles knew that much. It was just a fantasy he had sometimes. 

Out in the greater world, hope and optimism were in scarce supply. The reconstruction was still young. It would take a lot of will to breathe fresh life into humanity's morale so they would not only survive, but shape what remained into something new, something better. 

But the potential for a better world was there. Charles saw it in Erik, who had given up his sunglasses and bared his scar to the world without shame. He saw it in his lab, where he found that the Kaiju that had wrought so much destruction could be the key to ending mankind's worst scourges. Out of the devastation, good was possible and attainable. 

Erik thought, and often said, that the absence of a common enemy would end international cooperation, and it would be back to pre-Kaiju conditions shortly enough.

But as much as he asserted that humans were inherently self-interested, he hadn't argued a word against Charles' insistence that they open the patent for the Kaiju-based cancer treatments. It was one of many instances of Erik's own behavior belying what he claimed to believe about mankind's bleak prospects.

Charles knew better than to point that tendency out. He'd just smile to himself about it sometimes, when he could be reasonably sure Erik wasn't looking. 

When things felt bleak, or when Charles felt burned out, that was what kept him going. If there was hope for Erik, there could be hope for anyone and everyone, and if there was hope for everyone, that meant hope for a better world was real. 

Erik snuffled and shifted in Charles' lap. "Whatimezit?" he mumbled. 

"Time to move to bed." Charles leaned down and kissed his forehead. 

Erik rubbed at his eyes. "Did you want to finish the movie first?" 

"Nah, it's okay. I've seen it before." 

"Mmm." He arched his back, stretching the sleep from his muscles. "Then do you want to maybe...?" He arched a suggestive eyebrow and tried to suppress a yawn. Charles chuckled. 

"We have to be up early, remember? The one-year anniversary observance is tomorrow evening." Erik pouted. "Come on, let's get to bed. I'll make it up to you. We'll have to amuse ourselves somehow on the flight to Geneva, anyway." 

Erik mulled it over, mouth twitching. "Mkay," he conceded. "Bed." 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus concludes my bizarro smut that somehow spiraled into five chapters and feels. Thanks for following along! If you want to drop me a line, chat about writing, or keep tabs on what's coming down the pipeline, I set up a baby blog over at [miiishmish.tumblr.com](miiishmish.tumblr.com). 
> 
> No content warnings for this chapter, unless incredibly transparent scientific bullshit counts.


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